A Difficult Year
by Andrea13 and PersephoneKore
Summary: Stepbrothers Tom Riddle and Rubeus Hagrid return for their second year together at Hogwarts. Lesson One: Do not argue with people who are trying to help you. Lesson Two: Sometimes Weasleys make sense. Lesson Three: Appreciate your father.
1. Chapter One

"A Difficult Year"  
By Andrea13 and Persephone Kore  
Chapter 1

Rubeus Hagrid had learned many things in his one year, two months, and sixteen days at Hogwarts. 

He'd learned how to turn a match into a needle, how to swish and flick properly to make something fly, and the first line of defense if you were attacked by a Dark wizard ("run"). He'd also learned he was very good at Herbology, nearly as good at Potions, and broomsticks were really not intended to be used by someone of his size. Rubeus quickly found out who was dating whom, which students _hated_ each other, who was good to ask for a little extra help in Transfiguration, and who should absolutely NOT be disturbed on Saturday mornings (under penalty of death).

The most important thing he'd learned, though, was that the best place to learn just about anything was right here in his dorm room, talking to his roommates. After all, between them they had nearly every aspect of the wizarding world covered. Two of them had older siblings at Hogwarts, or who'd graduated recently. One was Muggle-born, and kept them all entertained with stories about the odd things Muggles did. They were all a fun-loving, slightly mischievous group.

Right now, though, they were all bored stiff.

"Let's go see if the Care of Magical Creatures professor will let us visit the animals!" Rubeus suggested enthusiastically. For the fifth time. The other boys groaned.

Xavier looked up from where he was attempting to mend a rip in his robes acquired from an encounter with an overly-enthusiastic Crup. "Let's not."

"Aww, c'mon, Xavier, it'll be fun!" Rubeus cajoled. "I hear they just got in a new shipment of grindylows!"

Reggie Johnson, who occupied the bed between the two, looked up and calmly caught the pillow Xavier tried to throw at Rubeus. "We know _you_ think it'll be fun, Rubeus, but most of us still have scars from last time. Maybe something else, all right?"

"They'll behave fine if yeh just go at it right," Rubeus explained, apparently undaunted. 

"Yes, well, we all know that _you're_ used to dealing with deadly creatures," Xavier retorted blithely. "You live with Slytherins, after all."

"_They're_ nice," Rubeus retorted, "an' it just goes to show that it's all in the approach." He was, possibly, getting the hang of this sort of comment.

Xavier grinned and replied blandly, "I'll keep that in mind the next time I go stake out the Slytherin dorms."

Rubeus laughed. "Well, now, I reckon some of it's in what you're approachin' for."

"If he's staking out the Slytherins," Diggle in the next bed put in, "I don't think it'll be to borrow a cup of sugar." He grinned and put down his Herbology book, scooting up the bed to join in the conversation. "Though that might be fun, just to see the looks on their faces."

"That'd probably make for some interestin' letters home."

"From them or from us?"

"Well, I'd probably hear about Tom's."

"Weird. I mean, granted, my little sister's a Ravenclaw, but a _Slytherin_? Too odd."

"Don' see why." Rubeus grinned suddenly. "If you're stakin' out the Slytherin dorm... well, I hear Dad and Aunt Mary thought up some thin excuses to visit early on. Are yeh sure there isn' a Slytherin girl you're lookin' at?"

"Bite your _tongue_! I have taste, thank you very much."

Rubeus sat up rather abruptly. "I _didn'_ say otherwise." 

"Sorry, sorry. I'm sure your mum's very nice."

"That's better."

"Honestly, Rubeus, there's no need to be so uptight. People insult _my_ family all the time," Xavier confided airily. 

"Yeah, but _your_ family--"

"_Don't_ say it, Johnson."

Reggie grinned cheekily and tossed Xavier's pillow back at him. "Whatever you say, Weasley."

"Aunt Mary said she wouldn' have minded havin' more children, but not as many as yer mum, Xavier." Rubeus grinned. "Says she hasn' got that many hands."

"She can have some of ours," Xavier promised instantly.

Rubeus's smile turned almost wicked. "Family legend does say Salazar was a redhead."

The other boys in the room all immediately turned to Xavier and started taunting. "So now who's the heir of Slytherin, Weasley?" "New reason to be staking out the Slytherin dorms, eh?" "I don't know if we can keep you as our roommate, Xavier."

Xavier turned as red as his hair. "Shove off, you. Every member of my family's been in Gryffindor for thirty-seven years!"

"Out of a thousand?" Reggie asked innocently.

"Can _I_ help it if my cousin Quintus went into Hufflepuff? He broke one of the longest House-streaks at Hogwarts! No one spoke to him at Christmas for years."

"I thought about askin' for Hufflepuff." Rubeus frowned. "That's overreactin'."

"It wasn't that he was in Hufflepuff, it was that he wasn't in Gryffindor. Every Weasley had been in Gryffindor for nearly five hundred years. Our streak was longer than even those Malfoys." Xavier sighed gustily. "And Quintus ruined it. We're trying to build it back up, but it takes time."

"About five hundred years, I'd say," Reggie said with a straight face.

Xavier hit him with the pillow.

"Instead o' sittin' around insulting each other, we could go see the grindylows," Rubeus suggested brightly.

Diggle grinned from his bed and reached under his Transfiguration text. "I've still got a few Filibuster Fireworks left; we could go set them off from the Astronomy Tower!"

"Last time we did that, we lost ten points each," Reggie pointed out. "Save 'em for the girls' toilet, Dedalus."

Xavier snorted. "Oh, and that wouldn't lose us any!" 

Reggie rolled his eyes exaggeratedly. "The trick, Xavier my boy, is not to get _caught_. There's more of a time delay then; we can get away before it explodes."

"Weasleys," Xavier retorted, lifting his chin proudly, "don't play such silly pranks."

"Riiiiiiight," Dedalus snorted. "So all those stories I heard about the Slytherin Quidditch team's hair getting turned Weasley red a few years back was just a coincidence?"

Xavier shrugged. "Can _I_ help it if someone else realized everyone looks better with red hair?"

"In your dreams, Weasley," Reggie retorted, throwing a pillow at the red-haired boy. Unlike last time, this one hit Xavier right in the face.

"Hey!" he protested, jumping up. "You'll pay for that one," he threatened direly, pulling out his wand. "_Wingardium leviosa_!"

Every pillow in the room jumped up in quick succession to dart directly at poor Reggie. 

Unfortunately for Xavier (but fortunately for Reggie), his aim wasn't very good, and at least half the pillows plowed into Rubeus instead.

Laughing, Rubeus snared all the pillows in his massive arms and dumped them on top of Xavier. 

One more important thing you learned about at Hogwarts was how to take revenge.

*****

Tom _thought_ he was minding his own business when he was hit hard in the back and knocked sprawling. 

Obviously, he thought through the haze of trying to get his breath back, he should have been paying more attention. He wasn't quite sure to what, but if he'd been paying attention, he would know that, wouldn't --

His head was knocked against the ground and he bit his tongue. Tom tried to swallow a pained noise, but it squeaked out when a heavy weight landed hard on top of him. This wasn't good.... 

"You should really watch where you're going, Riddle. You'd think our star Quidditch player wouldn't be so clumsy."

"What's the matter with you?" Tom gasped out. No, that was NOT up to his usual standard of repartee, maybe because he was _seeing_ stars.... A foot came down hard on the hand that had been holding his wand, then kicked the bit of wood away. 

A face came into his field of vision, uncomfortably close. He could smell his assailant's breath and it wasn't pretty. "You've got some nerve asking that after showing me up today!"

"Don't recall trying anything of the sort." Tom tried to summon his wand, preferably to the un-stomped hand, and was not excessively surprised when it didn't work. 

"In Potions. I was just about to finish my Deterioration Draught, and Professor Kantle would know I was the best student in the class! But then YOU had to go and finish right before me. You're always showing me up!"

"Obviously you weren't the best student in the class, then," Tom drawled. It probably wasn't very wise to point out gaps in logic when he was being assaulted, come to think of it...

This was insane. For one thing no one had seriously tried to attack or intimidate him since he'd demonstrated his skill with hexes for a bully in third year; for another, beating him up was completely useless for impressing a teacher... too obvious... very un-Slytherin... and why was he musing about his assailant's House qualifications instead of trying to get loose?!

"Obviously _you've_ got no common sense." The growl was emphasized by a fist smashing his jaw against the ground. 

~_Yes, I was just thinking that,_~ Tom thought dazedly. Then he belatedly thought of fighting _back_ and soon discovered that it wasn't helping -- he wasn't exactly weak, but he was smaller than the other boy and rather effectively pinned. 

"I have to impress Professor Kantle." Each word was emphasized by a slamming of his head against the ground. "O.W.L.s are coming up next year, and if I don't do well, I'm toast."

"Might I suggest _studying_ instead of beating classmates into the ground?" Tom suggested slightly woozily, starting to see double by now. He was rewarded by a short-armed punch to the midsection and let out a short grunt of pain.

"GEROFF HIM!" The weight on Tom's back was abruptly removed to the accompaniment of a roar from Rubeus. The relief of this was partially countered by the fact that by this point the sound hurt almost as much as having his head hit.

"Look, you bully, I don' know where yeh think yeh get off --" Rubeus apparently cut off his scolding of the perpetrator to crouch down and investigate the victim. "_Tom_?" He sounded a bit incredulous. "Tom, are yeh all right?"

"Never better," he croaked. "All right...once or twice."

Rubeus carefully grasped his brother by the shoulders and lifted him to his feet. Tom wondered dazedly where his potions-obsessed toast... er, assailant had gone until several blinks revealed...that the person in question...had his arms in the custody of two Gryffindors to whom Rubeus had apparently consigned him. 

"Are you all _right_, Tom?" Rubeus asked worriedly. "You look awful."

Tom managed a woozy smile. "Nice to know you'll always tell it like it is, little brother." He had the distinct feeling that he was floating. Was that due to a head injury, or was Rubeus actually holding him off the floor?

Rubeus directed a furious glare at the toast -- no, that wasn't right -- actually, given that expression, maybe it was.... Tom tried to shake his head and discovered instantly that this had been a bad idea. 

"I think we'd better take him to the hospital wing," one of the other Gryffindors said cautiously. 

"Think yer right," Rubeus muttered. "Tom, d'you think yeh can walk?" 

"I've been walking since before you were born. Mostly." Tom blinked down at his feet. Yes, they seemed to be properly on the ground where they belonged. No reason he couldn't move them a bit, was there?

Rubeus appeared somewhat doubtful of this ability, but let him try anyway -- albeit without actually letting go. Tom took a shambling step forward, but didn't actually manage to propel himself anywhere. He blinked suddenly and jerked his head around. ~_Bad idea. Ow. Ow. Ow._~ "My wand?"

"Steady!" Rubeus cautioned him worriedly, then looked around at the ground, scuffing a bit at the grass with a large foot. 

It was another Gryffindor who handed the wand rather warily to Tom. That was confusing. He didn't think he'd seen that one before. Not just now, at least. They seemed to be multiplying or something...."I'm steady." He managed to get his fingers to work quite acceptably and close around the wand, then he peered at the new Gryffindor. "Where're you all coming from?" On second thought, maybe he should just be quiet now.

The latest addition gave Tom a look suggesting suspicion of a trick question. "We were with Rubeus."

"All of you?" He looked over at Rubeus and grinned. "That's my popular brother." He wondered if any of them would mind if he took a little nap while they finished the conversation without him...

"Here now, stay awake, Tom...." Apparently Rubeus did mind. He sounded rather alarmed. Then he lifted his older brother easily into his arms and started off for the hospital wing at as swift a pace as he could manage smoothly. 

Tom could still hear the other Gryffindors. "All of us? Do you think he was seeing double?"   
"Why was someone beating him up? I know he's annoying sometimes but...." "The weird thing is it was another Slytherin!"

"I'm forever punished for my wit and good looks," Tom muttered in reply. "He was just jealous _I_ had matching shoes."

"You're really odd when you've been hit in the head, Tom," Rubeus observed, pushing open a doorway. "Jus' stay awake, all right?"

"I am awake. I should hope it's odd. Don't really want to make a habit of this...." 

"You'd better not," Rubeus informed him. 

"Wasn't really trying to this time. Glad you came, but I really almost had him."

"Had 'im _where_?"

"Right where I wanted him."

Rubeus sighed. "Whatever yeh say, Tom. The hospital wing's not much further."

"Why are you taking me there? I'm ferpectly fine!"

Rubeus agreed long-sufferingly that his brother was in ferpect condition and kept right on going. 

"Excuse me, miss," he said hesitantly, pushing open the door to the infirmary and looking around for the nurse. "Me brother's hurt."

"_Mercy_!" Madam Pomfrey, the apprentice mediwitch, swooped over. "Been fighting, has he? Yes, lay him there." She shook her head disapprovingly. "Should I be expecting the other one?"

"He wasn't fighting, he was getting beaten up!" Rubeus exclaimed angrily. "Other one don't have a mark on him!"

"I almost managed to bite him once," Tom corrected from the bed, blinking up at them. He directed a smile at Madam Pomfrey that would've been charming if it wasn't so unfocused and with a distinct bit of pain behind it.

She scowled. "Well, who was it? We can't have that either." She dabbed at Tom's face with something that made it mostly stop hurting, then insisted he drink a potion that wouldn't have been palatable even if it _hadn't_ smelled like his attacker's breath.

"Slytherin fourth year," Rubeus answered, after it became apparent that Tom was too involved in trying to choke the potion down to bother answering. "Don't know his name, but me friends were taking him to a professor."

Tom thought that unless they happened across the head of Slytherin house and mentioned who had been _being_ attacked, the likely result of this was not going to be something _he_ would view as an improvement. On the bright side, he seemed to be thinking more clearly. Now that he was, he reflected that it was rather embarrassing to have been rescued by his baby brother and friends. Not that lying on the ground with his head getting smashed in was an improvement, but it was still a little embarrassing. No reason to be rude, though. He reached up to grasp his brother's large hand. He always felt dwarfed by it. "Thanks, Rubeus."

Rubeus squeezed his hand -- gently, which was nice of him since the fingers were still tender. "We almost didn' see yeh at all, Tom -- we just happened to go 'round that way." He sounded troubled.

Tom smiled vaguely. "Always knew Lady Luck liked me."

"You'd better be more careful, though.... What was it all about, anyway?"

"Something about showing him up in Potions." Tom waved his free hand in the air vaguely. "We didn't really have time for a long chat." His smile turned slightly bitter. "Probably didn't like a halfblood beating him. Oh, the injustice." His voice was very dry.

"Th' idiot," Rubeus muttered. 

"That's what I said. Didn't help much." Tom rubbed his jaw.

"Well, no, it's not usually the most helpful thing to say when somebody's hitting you." The Gryffindor who'd handed back Tom's wand was still lurking just inside the doorway. Tom searched his mind for a name now that he could actually focus on the face. One of the assorted Weasleys, too bad they looked so much alike....

"Well, he WAS an idiot, Weasley," Tom retorted. "No point not saying it when he's decided to demonstrate it so clearly. Not like anything I said was going to make him _stop_, 'cept maybe 'stupefy', and I didn't have m' wand."

"I noticed. Not quite _enough_ of an idiot, I suppose." 

"The quality of bullies around here is improving."

"Tom," Rubeus interrupted bewilderedly, "how often does this _happen_?"

"Er," said Tom. "What, exactly? I haven't had to be carried in before...." 

"But...people coming after you. People _like_ you."

"...Not quite _everyone_."

"Well, why NOT?" Rubeus asked as if he couldn't quite wrap his mind around the concept.

Weasley appeared to be keeping his mouth shut largely out of deference to Rubeus' feelings and the likelihood of being kicked out of the infirmary if he made a nuisance of himself. Either that or the awareness that Tom did have his wand now. 

"It does take _some_ effort, as a rule...." Tom eyed Weasley and thought that it might be nice if the redhead DID get himself kicked out.

Rubeus still looked baffled. Madam Pomfrey finished whatever it was she was doing with her wand and presented another potion for Tom to drink. This one, thankfully, smelled faintly of apples. "You're lucky you have a hard head, young man. Try to keep from colliding with any more floors in the future."

"I'll see what I can do about that." The charming smile was a bit more successful this time.

She seemed unimpressed by the effort. "You can go back to your dormitory. Come back if you start to feel dizzy or nauseous."

"I will. Thank you." Tom sat up carefully and stood up with no immediate ill effects. That was good. 

"I'll walk yeh back, Tom," Rubeus insisted. He still sounded worried.

"I'm fine. Really." 

"That's what yeh said _before_," Rubeus replied darkly, following his brother out the door.

"Yes, but it's TRUE this time. Hello, Weasley." Tom waited expectantly for the redhead to move out of his way on the landing.

"Hello. You'll want to take a different stairway, Rubeus," Weasley said gravely. "There's a bit of a muddle with a sponge on this one." 

"A...sponge?" Tom repeated, though the comment hadn't quite been addressed to him. "What happened?"

"Well, among other things, there's a cactus in it... and a great deal of soap, for some reason. Supposedly it came up from under one of the trick steps, but I'm not sure I believe that."

Tom blinked, wondered briefly if he still had a head injury, but decided after a moment that it was just one of those things that happened at Hogwarts for no apparent reason and headed for the other staircase. "Thanks for the warning."

Weasley proceeded down the staircase in question, presumably to deal with the sponge. His story was supported by the squirt of soapy water that jetted up to the landing while Tom was looking back curiously at it. "Weird." By point of pride, he didn't lean against his brother at all as they walked down the other staircase, though Rubeus had an arm out ready just in case and whatever Madam Pomfrey had given him _was_ making him decidedly sleepy. "You really don't have to walk me all the way, Rubeus. I can manage."

"I'd rather, though." 

He sighed. "All right. If you insist. It's not necessary, though."

"I didn' think yeh'd mind that much...." Rubeus sighed. "I'm sorry, Tom. It did give me a shock ter see yeh like that...."

"I don't mind if you _want_ to, little brother. And... I'm sorry. I just wasn't watching where I was going, or he never would've gotten the jump on me. These things happen, Rubeus."

Rubeus frowned at him. "And yeh never told me how often."

Tom shrugged. "There wasn't a reason to."

"I _meant_ when I asked!"

Another sigh. "Not that often. A few times a year, just usually not so...physically. Mostly the troublemakers stick to just taunting. Or hating in silence, because their wit is about as sharp as their heads." A frown. "And I _usually_ manage to catch on beforehand and make them...think twice first." 

"It always seemed that people just like yeh, though." 

"Most people do, but you can't be a halfblood in Slytherin without getting a _few_ comments. And the stupid ones are always looking for someone else to blame for their poor marks." Tom shrugged casually. "It's nothing to worry about. I make them sorry later." He grinned, quick and sharp. "Or a friend does. Gryffindors aren't the _only_ ones who can stick together, you know."

"I thought that was the Hufflepuffs." Rubeus eyed his brother sternly. "It shouldn' _happen_." 

Tom sighed. "Rubeus, about this idealistic streak...." 

"It _shouldn'_," he retorted firmly. "And why didn't yeh ever tell me about it? Yeh'd wanted to know if _I_ was being bullied."

"Little brother, anyone who'd try to bully YOU would have to be much stupider than anyone _I've_ ever met, and blind besides."

"That's _not_ the point."

"No, the point is, _you're_ my little brother, so of _course_ I'm supposed to know when people are hassling you. _I'm_ supposed to protect _you_. Not the other way around. I can take care of myself."

Rubeus stopped walking and folded his arms, scowling down at Tom. "I won't deny yer a better wizard than I am, Tom, but yeh don't have ter act like I can't do anything. Or shouldn't. I'm not standing for yeh getting hurt just because yeh don't want my help."

"I didn't say you can't do anything. I said I can fight my own battles."

"Oh yeah? Was that what yeh were doing when that bully was slamming yer head into the ground?"

Tom winced. "I did thank you...."

"An' told me to keep my nose out of your business in the future. So next time I see that, am I supposed to just walk away?"

"That's not what I -- you didn't even know it was me at the time --"

"So I should walk over, check and see if it's you, and then walk off if it is? But if it's someone _else_ gettin' beat up, I can do somethin'?"

This was clearly not one of Tom's better days. Now he'd managed to get Rubeus angry with him as well.... "I don't suppose you could give me half an hour to regain the ability of intelligent conversation?"

"Right now, I think yeh need a lot more time than that!" Rubeus snapped, then stalked off towards the Gryffindor common room.

Tom stared after him for a moment, then snapped out of it and made his way to his own common room, keeping alert just in case the Gryffindors had lost his overly-violent housemate. He stopped in front of a bare stretch of wall and muttered, "Swedish Short-Snout." The prefects had a dragon obsession at the moment; last week it had been "Chinese Fireball" and before that "Peruvian Vipertooth". He hoped they got over the obsession soon. _No one_ was going to be able to remember "Antipodean Opaleye".

The hidden door opened and he slid into the common room, ignoring the called out greetings and heading up to his own dormitory.

Rubeus would love the dragon passwords. Tom considered telling him about them once the craze had safely passed. 

Assuming they'd made up by then....

They would have, surely. He was being ridiculous. After all, Rubeus simply didn't _stay_ mad. He'd get riled up occasionally, but after he'd cooled down, he would realize he was just mad for no reason.

He was.

TOM was right, after all. He didn't need his little brother to protect him. He would have survived the beating -- stupid to get into that situation, of course, but he was hardly going to _die_ from that -- made it to the infirmary himself, and then made the git very, very sorry. Not that he was planning to omit that last part, of course. 

Tom slumped onto his bed. None of that changed the relief he'd felt when Rubeus had plucked the other boy _off_ him....

It had been nice. But he'd _thanked_ Rubeus for it, hadn't he? It wasn't as if he was being ungrateful. He just wanted to make sure that Rubeus understood he didn't have to WORRY about him. 

...And right now, he just wanted to take a nap. He'd sort it out later.

*****

Tom lagged behind the rest of the team getting dressed after Quidditch practice. Despite his time in the infirmary, he still had aches in interesting places. He half-suspected Madam Pomfrey of leaving minor aches unhealed to discourage fights. But that would be too Slytherin of her...

Tom blinked repeatedly as he finally made it down to the dungeon corridor that housed the entrance to Slytherin dormitories. Either that last Bludger had hit him harder than he thought, or there was a Weasley sitting cross-legged on the stone floor just beside the hidden door...

"There you are," said the boy. Tom blinked at him again. There was no mistaking that flaming red hair, looking especially out of place in the flickering torchlight instead of in the perpetual reds of the Gryffindor common room. (Not that Tom had ever SEEN this room, but he knew Gryffindors well enough to know they'd plaster that awful color all over their dormitories.) Definitely a Weasley. 

Definitely the Weasley who had been with Rubeus. 

~_Erk._~

"Did you want something?"

"I was waiting for you."

Tom resisted the urge to rub his aching head and snapped, "You've seen me. Now if that's all, I have homework to do."

"I am going," said the Weasley sternly, "to have a talk with you."

Tom sighed and half-lounged against the wall, raising one eyebrow. "Little lions are braving the snakes in their den now? I always knew Gryffindors were idiots."

Weasley's grin was vaguely alarming, perhaps because it occurred instead of something more predictable like rising to the bait. "Would you prefer to talk here or somewhere comparatively private?"

"I'd _prefer_ to be facedown on my nice, soft bed right now, if you must know, but if you _insist_ on speaking to me..." Tom walked off without another word and found a nearby classroom that wasn't in use. "You have two minutes, and I'm only giving you THAT because you're Rubeus' friend."

"Which is why I'm here," Weasley snapped, and without further preamble he launched, to Tom's astonishment, into a furious lecture. "WHAT are you thinking? He _helps_ you and now you're angry with him and decide to make him miserable? He keeps insisting you're decent and all that but right now I really don't see it."

Tom blinked for a few moments before summoning enough thought away from his astonishment at the way Weasley's freckles were managing to pulsate in their own independent rhythm with his anger to formulate his own reply. "I'm hardly making Rubeus miserable, and it's none of YOUR business what I'm doing! For your information, I'm not mad at him for helping me, and if he chooses to believe so, he's making HIMSELF miserable!"

Tom firmly ignored the little voice of conscience that told him he'd planned to apologize to his brother before now. They'd switched from dragon passwords to potions ingredients already...

"Don't even TRY to blame it on him! If you're _not_ mad at him you're giving a bloody good impression of it, which isn't any better." Weasley folded his arms and glowered. It was really a very good glower, possibly learnt from a parent who found it necessary to cow several very Gryffindor-y offspring on a regular basis. 

"Oh, and YOU'RE the expert on our relationship?" Tom snorted and crossed his own arms, giving the patented unconcerned look perfected from facing any number of idiots on a regular basis who claimed he was a lower life form because his father was a Muggle.

...Idiots like the one Rubeus had pulled off him.

"Of course not," Weasley retorted rather unexpectedly. "_I'm_ just the one in this room who's actually been talking to Rubeus for the past few weeks."

Tom's teeth ground together. "So he sent you here to yell at me? Very mature."

Weasley gave him a withering look. "You don't know him any better than _that_?"

"Then you're down here without him knowing anything about it, so you don't know what you're talking about." Tom glowered. His glower wasn't bad either. "Maybe you don't know as much as you think you do."

Weasley appeared undeterred by the return-glower. "I know what I'm talking about," he said angrily. "I know what happened, since I was _there_, and I know for some reason you're barely speaking to each other since, and I know Rubeus is miserable about it but HE is certainly not going to come back and apologize and say he'll be careful never to do anything _nice_ for you again."

"I never SAID he should apologize! I _thanked_ him for helping me. HE'S the one who chose to get insulted when I said I could fight my own battles! I've only been doing it for the past four years."

"And you were doing such a good job," Weasley replied dryly. "What's he supposed to do, check if it's you getting hurt and walk away if it is?"

That sounded rather familiar...."Do all you Gryffindors read a manual or something? Honestly! I've taken a few knocks before and I'll do it again. I get my own back. I appreciated the help at the time, but I don't need my little brother and his friends to protect me!"

"You make it sound like you think he's conspiring to humiliate you or something! If you're not mad at him, why aren't you _talking_ to him?"

"Rubeus couldn't conspire if his life depended on it. Why do you think he ended up with YOU prats?" Tom growled and sat on a nearby desk. "I'm not _not_ talking to him."

Weasley looked exasperated. "All right. But considering you're in different Houses, even if you aren't trying to avoid him you end up avoiding him unless you try _not_ to avoid him. I have a cousin in Ravenclaw I can barely find when I _am_ looking for her."

"I thought all you Weasleys were in Gryffindor. Family pride back to the Middle Ages or something."

"She's on my mother's side, and you're avoiding the point."

Tom glared at him. "This is none of your business. I don't interfere with _your_ family."

"You would if you had a good enough reason," Weasley retorted, accurately enough. "Your brother is my friend; he's unhappy, and I still think it's your fault." He sighed. "And I don't _think_ that's what you actually want. If it is, there's not much point my being here."

"Of course I don't want him unhappy," Tom snapped. "But I know my brother. I've known him for longer than YOU have. If he wanted to talk to me, he would."

Weasley sighed again and went over to perch on another desk nearby. "I currently _live_ with him. He thinks you don't want to talk to _him_."

"Well you can tell him I DO, then." 

There was a brief silence.

"Is there any particular reason," Weasley asked after a moment, "that you couldn't tell him this yourself? I mean, it's probably not all that convincing if you're sending it by messenger."

Tom closed his eyes and let out a long, drawn-out sigh. "Weasley, I'm tired, I'm sore, I have ten feet of parchment to write, and I have Quidditch practice AGAIN in the morning. You, as you just pointed out, LIVE with him. Pass the message on, and I'll talk to him as soon as I have the bloody TIME!"

"All right, all right." There was a definite grin in the voice; Tom slitted his eyes open suspiciously and noted that the grin was also quite visible. "Just so long as you're actually going to do it. I'll tell him." 

"_Thank_ you."

Tom expected Weasley to leave then. He thought Weasley _was_ leaving until, halfway to the door, the Gryffindor paused and flipped his wand into his hand -- apparently it had been up his sleeve. Tom barely had time for a frantic rush of adrenaline and mental curses at his own carelessness -- and to _start_ to grab for his own wand -- before Weasley said quickly, "_Amelio_" and some of the soreness dissipated. Not all of it -- he'd have been really shocked if a second-year had managed that -- but....

Weasley pocketed his wand quickly and held up both empty hands placatingly. "Sorry. Didn't mean to startle you."

"Ah...you didn't. ..Thank you." Not that Tom would have _admitted_ if he'd been startled -- not to a bloody Gryffindor, and a second-year, for that matter! -- but still. He knew his manners, at least. Tom flexed his arm and reluctantly admired the work. Not bad for a second-year. "You're pretty good at those."

Weasley smiled ruefully. "Fourth of seven brothers. I have a lot of practice."

_Seven_? Weasley families WERE as large as the jokes. Tom shook his head. "Well...tell Rubeus I'll see him around." Tom slipped his wand casually back in his pocket.

"I will." Xavier Weasley really did leave this time, and Tom slid off the desk and made it into the Slytherin dorm without further confrontations. 

Rubeus was eavesdropping on some third-years' shared homework for Care of Magical Creatures when Xavier made his way back into the Gryffindor common room. "Rubeus?"

"Oh, hullo Xavier. You look happy."

Xavier shrugged. "Ran into your brother." All right, so waylaid would be the more accurate term, but who was counting?

Rubeus blinked and sat up straighter. "Yeh talked ter Tom? What did he say? How'd he look? What -- wait a minute, yeh ran into him and yeh're in a GOOD mood?"

Xavier caught a dirty look from one of the third-years and beckoned Rubeus to move the conversation a little further off. "And I thought _my_ brothers could be unflattering?" He grinned as they settled into a different set of chairs. "He's all right. Bit overworked, said something about having to write ten feet of parchment between Quidditch practices, though of course _I'd_ just as soon he missed a few of them. And he said he'd talk to you as soon as he had the time."

A broad smile immediately wreathed Rubeus' face. "Really? He said that? He's not--I mean, I thought he was busy an'...well..." Rubeus shook his head, but the pleased smile remained. "He talked ter you just ter tell yeh that?"

"We-ell... to tell the truth I stopped him and asked why he _hadn't_ been talking to you for a while. Seems he didn't think you wanted him to, some such nonsense." 

Rubeus narrowed his eyes. "Yeh mean yeh ambushed him? TOM?"

"I'd hardly call it an ambush," Xavier protested. "I saw him, I spoke -- what, am I not allowed to start conversations?"

"Of course yeh are, but...Yeh just _happened_ ter see him?" Rubeus asked suspiciously.

"Well, no, I did look for him, I admit." Xavier shrugged.

"Yeh _did_ ambush him."

"I did not. One attacks from ambush. I am not," Xavier said with dignity, "a total idiot."

Rubeus snorted eloquently.

"Look, you were both being idiots not talking to each other, so I went and told him that," Xavier said impatiently. "In case you missed it, I said he thought YOU didn't want to talk to HIM. Misunderstanding all corrected, life goes on."

"Ter tell the truth, I'm surprised he told yeh any such thing." 

Xavier blinked. "Why?"

"Well, yeh know. He does talk ter me -- most of the time -- an' Dad of course, but other than that, not so much about that sort of thing ter anybody from other Houses. We're exceptions on account of bein' family."

"Maybe I get to be an exception on account of being a family friend?" Xavier suggested with a cheeky grin. "People love confiding in me, you know. Do it all the time."

"Scary thought," Rubeus said cheerfully, "but probably useful. And... thanks for clearin' things up, then." He frowned and lowered his voice. "I'm still not plannin' ter stand by if...."

"I know." Xavier shrugged. "Who could? But I'd still be mortified if, say, Arthur had to rescue me from somebody my own year. Doesn't mean I'd be mad at him," he added hastily, "but it would still be embarrassing. Or does Tom embarrass?" A mischievous grin. "There _are_ those who say Slytherins can't blush."

"Isn't Arthur the six year old? I'd be embarrassed too!" Rubeus sighed and ducked his head. "He can blush. That don' mean I want ter MAKE him. I just...I still don' know why anyone WOULD do that, especially ter Tom..."

"Worse, Arthur's three. And Mum's pregnant again, did I tell you?" Xavier shrugged. "And likely they're jealous or something. I doubt most people are as fond of him as you are, given that's a near impossibility for anybody but your parents. Still no excuse, of course." 

"Yer gonna have another brother? That's great! It must be nice havin' such a big family. I'd love ter have more brothers, but Aunt Mary can't really, so..." Rubeus shrugged. "I didn't say they had ter like him as much as _I_ do, but there's a lot of difference between that an' smashin' his head against the ground..."

"I know there is." Xavier sighed. "_I_ wouldn't do it, obviously, so I can't really explain it."

"I guess not." Rubeus frowned heavily. "He didn't even _tell_ me, though. Do _your_ brothers keep things like that from you? Or you from your little brothers?"

"Well, I haven't anything like it to keep secret, and I suppose if anybody were keeping it from _me_ I wouldn't know as long as they were doing a good job of it, would I? I...don't think any of us would, though."

Rubeus sighed gustily and leaned back in his chair. "I didn' think so."

"On the other hand, it might not _necessarily_ come up."

"Well, I never right out _asked_ him if he was getting beat up by his own bloody housemates, but--! I never thought about it. Aunt Mary's family is older than Hogwarts. His father might've been a Muggle, but Tom's a bloody good wizard. I mean, MY mum--" Rubeus cut off his words abruptly and mumbled again, "I just didn't think of it, that's all."

"It's hardly _your_ fault if you grew up with the only two decent Slytherins -- I'm kidding!" Xavier ended on a slightly exaggerated yelp as Rubeus looked up with knitting eyebrows. "Mostly. Though I will say it's a mite _creepy_ thinking they're really descended from, well, Slytherin. Seriously, though -- the ones who're truly nasty about that sort of thing will _say_ they can't stand incompetent Muggle-borns or half-bloods, but those're really the ones that bother them least, because they think of them as examples to prove their point."

"So the real problems are the ones who don't say anything, they just start hitting? Yeh don' even know who ter watch for then!" Rubeus shrugged. "I never thought about Slytherin being weird. I just grew up with it. Aunt Mary's friends were mostly from Slytherin, and they seemed nice."

"I suppose it would be odd to know somebody descended from any of the _other_ Founders too, really. But then, I suppose if you're used to it...." Xavier shrugged off the issue. "Say, what _did_ her friends think about her marrying a Gryffindor?"

"Well, I was a baby at the time, so I can't really say what they said THEN. Dad said they both got teased a bit, but everyone seemed ter think it was a pretty good match by then...what with Tom and me in the picture, an' all."

"Well, that'd make sense." Xavier stretched. "Look, I'm glad you two are going to be speaking again, but while I may not have ten feet to write I _do_ have to go study Transfiguration."

"All right. Try ter sleep a little too." Rubeus grinned at his friend. "And thanks."

*****

A flash of gold -- there!

Without really thinking about it, Tom angled his broomstick towards the flash, leaning forward to increase his speed. The wind rushed by him, whipping at his narrowed eyes until they teared. Still, he kept his sight on the flash. Closer...closer...

His fingers closed around the Snitch, the wings fluttering against his palm. It tickled. 

He whooped aloud and held his hand aloft. "Got it!" he cried triumphantly.

"Nice going, Riddle." Brekkon, the team captain, flew over and took the Snitch from Tom's hand. "You caught that in record time. Be sure to do it against Ravenclaw! All right, let's try that drill again, Chasers! But this time--Who's that?" He peered down to the field, where a large figure was stumbling across at a run. "Isn't that your brother, Riddle? What's a _Gryffindor_ doing at our team practice?"

"I'll talk to him, Brek. Relax. Just keep a hold of the Snitch for a while." With that, Tom angled his broom downwards. What _was_ Rubeus doing running out in the middle of Slytherin Quidditch practice? He knew Weasley said Rubeus wanted to talk to him, but still...he knew better than to run out in the middle of another House's practice...

Tom touched down on the grass lightly, just in time to get nearly bowled over by his little brother. "Tom! Tom!"

"Easy, Rubeus. You know you can't be out here n--What's wrong?" He suddenly realized that his brother was _crying_, great fat tears streaming down his broad face. Tom felt a chill pass through him. _Please_ let it be a problem with one of Rubeus' pets. The only other thing that would send him into hysterics like this was...

"It's Dad, Tom! Professor Dumbledore jus' got an owl from Aunt Mary. He's--he's sick. Bad. They're n-not sure if he'll m-m-make it!"

"_WHAT_?!" 

He was exaggerating. He had to be. An image of strong, tall Tavish Hagrid swam in front of Tom's eyes. His mother had always been frail, but Tavish seemed...invincible. Nothing could be seriously wrong with _him_. Rubeus was just exaggerating.

Rubeus was also nearly incoherent with grief, so he wasn't much help in answering his brother's question. Tom reached up to pat his shoulder reassuringly. "It'll be all right, Rubeus. I'm sure he's fine." He had to swallow hard to clear the lump out of his throat. Tavish WOULD be fine.

"B-b-but what if he's NOT, Tom?" Rubeus sniffled, wiping his face with one large hand. His eyes were damp and shadowed. "W-what _then_?"

Tom opened his mouth to answer, but found he had no idea what to say.

*****


	2. Chapter Two

A Difficult Year  
By Andrea13 and Persephone Kore  
Chapter 2

"Boys!" Mary Hagrid hugged her sons to her tightly, feeling the tears welling up yet again at the trembling that wracked young Rubeus' body. Her Tom was stiff and pale, his dark eyes very large in his white face. She kissed them both on the cheek and pulled back, blinking the tears away. She had to be strong. For all their sakes. "I'm so glad you came."

"Of course we came," Tom said hollowly, patting her shoulder. He'd grown so tall already, she noted with maternal pride. Not that he looked that way beside Rubeus, of course, but she nearly felt small next to him. Tom was standing so straight and proud, obviously trying to be strong for Rubeus, but his voice caught a little when he asked, "H-how's Uncle Tavish?"

No, this wasn't the time for tears! She had to be strong, for their boys. "He's...stable." She sank back into one of the hard chairs that lined the corridors of St. Mungo's, pulling the boys into chairs as well. "He got hit very hard by...Firian Fire Fever." She couldn't repress the shudder that came with the name.

Tom made a startled noise beside her. "B-but I thought that was always...fatal." He whispered the last word.

"I was with him when it struck, so I was able to get him here right away. He's...in bad shape, but he could still pull through."

"C-could?"

"He's strong," Mary said softly, stroking Tom's hair. "He'll make it."

Tom nodded fiercely, though his chin was trembling. Rubeus kept his head on her shoulder, dwarfing her, but the tears streaming down his face were a reminder that he was only twelve, and his father had been his rock since he was born. ~My poor babies,~ she thought, holding them to her. ~_My poor Tavish. We need you._~

She would survive. She always did. She'd survived her first husband's abandonment, far weaker physically then, having just lost her parents, and with a baby to support. She'd managed then, though it had taken a long time for the laughter to return to her life. But now it wasn't just her and an infant son who'd never even known his father to miss him. 

Rubeus frankly adored his father, who was understandably still the center of his young life. Tom, she sometimes thought, had neatly filed Tavish in his heart under "father" from the moment the large man had picked him up and enlisted his help in making sure Mary got her rest on that first meeting so long ago. How much would losing a second father hurt? Mary closed her eyes. Yes, she would survive, but Tavish _had_ to pull through for their sons' sakes.

Waiting was nearly unbearable. Every moment that passed was another moment the mediwizard could step outside and say that Tavish had lost the battle. It was so _quiet_! Mary found herself straining to hear each time the slightest whisper of conversation wafted down their hallway. She could hear the low noise of measured footsteps and the soft swoosh of robes as mediwizards and witches walked by. Most didn't even look at the tiny family huddled outside the treatment room. Rubeus was still sniffling softly against her shoulder, the only disruption to the rhythmic breathing of sleep. Poor dear probably hadn't gotten any rest since getting the news.

Mary found her mind walking backwards, before she'd ever met Tavish, before Tom was born. Living as a Muggle, she'd been so amused at the Muggle view that magic could accomplish literally anything with a wave of the wand, totally ignoring the discipline and strength required for every spell. There was no known charm to counteract Firian Fire Fever, no potion to ease the flames that now wracked Tavish's body. They could treat the systems, the mediwizard had warned her, but so few victims even survived to the treatment stage that it would be mostly up to Tavish himself to fight the disease.

Mary didn't even realize she'd closed her eyes until a diffident cough drew her attention. Standing in front of her was the mediwizard who'd taken Tavish from her when she'd arrived by Floo, shouting for help. Her throat was suddenly dry. "Is--?"

He smiled, a professional smile intended to set patients at ease. It instantly set her on edge. "The first fever has broken, and your husband is still holding on strong. I believe he has a good chance."

"Oh, thank goodness!" Tears welled up and Mary held on to both her sons for a long moment as they all shook with relief and joy. When she finally managed to compose herself again, she looked back up at the mediwizard. "Can we see him now?"

"You can, yes, but the children should remain here. Their immune system isn't as advanced." The wizard's face was very serious. "I should warn you that only the _first_ fever has broken. There will still likely be several more, so he isn't out of the danger zone yet."

"But he'll be all right," Rubeus insisted, scrubbing the tears off his cheek with one big hand. "Yeh said he'll be all right."

"Most wizards," the man replied gently, "don't even survive the first fever, so we don't really know what all will happen now. But he's strong, even after the first round, so I think he has a good chance." He turned his head courteously to Mary. "If you'll come with me, I'll take you to see him."

"It'll be all right, boys," Mary whispered, hugging each of them. Rubeus clung to her for a moment with a mostly-suppressed sob, but Tom still sat stiff as a board. She cupped his cheek for a moment, then followed the mediwizard back to her husband.

Tom stared at the closed door, his face still and unmoving. The only emotion that showed was in his large, dark eyes, which seemed huge in his pale face. Rubeus sat next to him, trying to mop up his tears with an overly-large, bright orange handkerchief. "T-Tom?" he asked hesitantly after several interminable minutes had past. "Dad -- he'll be okay, right? The mediwizard, he just has to be careful about sayin' stuff, but Dad'll be fine. Right?"

"I--of course he'll be all right, Rubeus. You heard the mediwizard; he's strong. He'll be fine." Tom's voice was hollow, though, and the reassuring pat he gave his brother's arm felt like it was coming from a million miles away.  
Rubeus swallowed hard. "Yeah, I heard him.."

"Well, then." Tom tried to nod decisively. And not... waterily.

"Yeah..." Rubeus swallowed hard and stared at the door. Tom was doing that, and it was apparently helping _him_, so...

After several minutes of staring, Rubeus looked back at his brother and blurted out, "I'm sorry."

Tom actually jumped. "What -- what for? I don't -" He broke off. He'd meant to go and apologize to Rubeus today, after practice, and what with practice being interrupted it had been driven entirely out of his mind. "Rubeus, you don't -- it wasn't your fault, I was going to come apologize to you...."

"It _was_ my fault, or yeh wouldn't have been mad." Rubeus sniffled again. "I just don' want us ter fight anymore, Tom. I'm sorry."

"I wasn't mad, I was embarrassed. And stubborn. You were mad. And I kept meaning to apologize sooner, I just...." Tom wavered dangerously close to tears himself and swallowed hard. "L-look, I'm sorry too."

Rubeus suddenly grabbed onto his brother tightly enough to make Tom wheeze. "I just didn't want anything bad ter happen ter yeh. If I hadn't shown up, yeh could've been really hurt. An' then yeh said it'd happened before an'...I don' want anything ter happen ter ANY of yeh!"

Tom hugged back and didn't answer for a moment because he knew Rubeus would let go if he sounded squashed, and he had suddenly realized he didn't want to be let go of. "Wasn't as bad as it looked," he finally whispered. "Honest. I'm sorry you were worried."

"Then why wouldn' yeh TALK ter me, Tom? It was _weeks_, and yeh didn' even say hello in the Great Hall!"

"I'm sorry." Tom rested his head against his brother for a moment even though Rubeus had loosened his grip. He didn't quite know what to say. "I don't know -- I kept meaning to -- I wasn't even sure if you _wanted_ me to--"

"Tom," Rubeus said, somehow managing to sound both pleading and severe at the same time, "don' be an idiot!"

Tom choked on a laugh, thereby managing to sound amused and ill at once -- quite the talent. "I'm sorry, little brother. I'll try harder. I think it runs in the family sometimes."

Rubeus laughed a little himself. "And sometimes it's all you, Tom. Don' blame Aunt Mary."  
Tom started laughing, until he was half-crying and still hugging his brother tightly. "It'll be okay," he promised fervently. "I know it will. Everything will be okay..."

*****

"Aunt Mary?" Rubeus stirred on the uncomfortable, too-small chair when he saw his stepmother come back into the waiting area. She halted mid-step and looked at him in tired surprise.

"They were going to prepare a room for you two," she said softly, changing direction and coming toward him. "I'd been about to go look for you there."

Rubeus shifted and looked guiltily at Tom, who had somehow managed to fall asleep on three of the chairs without even transfiguring them into anything. "I didn' want to go before... well, before we heard somethin'... and Tom said he'd wait with me."

She winced. "There's little to tell, I'm afraid. The fevers are starting again; they have them in hand, so to speak, since it was expected and there are mediwizards all about...but I did have to get out of their way."

"But...Dad'll be all right, won't he?" Rubeus looked at her with pleading eyes. "He's sick, but he'll be all right."

"He has the best of care now. If they can keep the fevers low enough not to damage his mind, then he...has a good chance."

Rubeus nodded and bit his lip, his black eyes glittering with suppressed tears. "I--I heard th' nurses say how he wouldn't've made it at all if yeh hadn't been with him..."

Mary settled exhaustedly into the seat beside him, on the opposite side from the ones Tom had claimed, and put her arms around him, laying her head for a moment against his arm. "They said that after a few more hours of the high fever, unchecked, there would..." Her voice trembled and broke for just a second. "Would not have been enough left to wake, even if he survived."

The arm beneath her head started shaking. "I'm glad you were there." Very quietly. Well, for Rubeus.

She swallowed. "So am I." A deep breath. "But I was, and I cast a Cooling Charm as soon as I realized it was necessary. And the mediwizards here did bring the first fevers under control, even though they'd had time to build up freely. It... _should_ be somewhat easier this time."

Rubeus bobbled his head up and down in agreement, since his throat felt too tight to speak a reply. After a few moments of silence, he was able to manage shakily, "I d-don' know what I'd d-do if I l-lost him..."

"You would go on. We all would," Mary told him softly, "but it would be very hard."

"I c-couldn't..."

"You shouldn't have to." She didn't specify whether this referred to rightness or probability. 

Rubeus sniffled and suddenly clung on to Mary tight enough to hurt. "I don' want to. When Professor Dumbledore got that owl..." His words choked off into tears.

"I know." She held on as tightly as she could herself, which somehow made Rubeus's powerful grip easier to bear, and waited until he remembered himself enough to loosen it a little. 

"And I know that he would fight to be able to stay with you. Is fighting.' She reached up and smoothed the wild hair at the side of his head. 'They're taking good care of him, Rubeus. I can't make promises, but I think he will be well. And in the meantime... I'm sure it feels as though you can't, but you should try to sleep."

"I don't want ter sleep," Rubeus protested stubbornly. "Not until I've seen him."  
"The risk of contagion won't be low enough for another two days." Mary's voice was gentle. "And they _will_ test you beforehand; if you're too worn down from not sleeping it will be longer still."

"But--!" Rubeus frowned and tried to summon an argument, but he was too tired to think properly. Maybe Tom would have better luck...

Tom, of course, was still sound asleep. Rubeus thought this wasn't quite fair.

"We'll wake you if anything changes that you would want to know about," Mary told him quietly, "and there is nothing any of us can do right now by keeping vigil. The time until you can see him will seem to go quicker if you sleep, and will really be shorter as well."

"It'd _feel_ like I was doin' something, at least," Rubeus muttered. He heaved a sigh, resulting in a minor gale across the room. "All right, all right..."

"Dream for him." It wasn't as nonsensical as it sounded; most magic done deliberately now, at least in the West, was calculated and careful, done with words and wands. Science had perhaps had more influence on magic than most wizards realized or were willing to admit. Still, even that was affected by the witch's or wizard's emotions and state of mind, and children's spontaneous magic was quite often entirely a result of that. Dreams were subconsciousness and feelings and symbols, when meaning was given them. Some people had visions of reality or prophecy in dreams. Others, far rarer, dreamed their will into reality.

"And," Mary added with a faint, tired smile, "would you mind terribly helping me get Tom to the room as well?"  
"  
No, Aunt Mary," Rubeus answered dutifully, though with another heavy sigh. He let go of his stepmother reluctantly and stood, stretching half-heartedly to keep from scraping his knuckles against the ceiling. Then he bent and picked Tom up effortlessly. "Er...do yeh know where th' room is?"

"Yes. Just this way."

When they reached the room, Rubeus set Tom down on one of the camp beds while Mary inspected the other for a moment and smiled approvingly on finding the Expansion Charm that would allow it to be quite comfortable for Rubeus once he got into it, despite fitting into the same space as the other. She kissed them both good night before slipping out into the shadows to the separate room the hospital had offered her. 

Rubeus thought about waking Tom long enough to wash his face, but decided it didn't matter that much and just crawled into bed. He was awfully tired, he found. But it still felt like a long time before he slept.

*****

"Check," Tom said morosely. His queen strutted to the designated space and fluttered her eyes at Rubeus' king, who tried to shift away without leaving his square. 

Rubeus sighed gustily and moved a bishop to block. Tom took the bishop with his knight, then announced, "Checkmate."

Rubeus didn't seem to notice his defeat. He was staring at the door, just has he had been for the past three hours. "Do yeh think they'll let us in soon?"

Tom sighed and gazed at the door himself for a moment. "I wish I knew."

"...I don't feel like playing chess anymore, all right, Tom?"

"Right. ...I understand."

Rubeus pushed the board away and crossed his arms. He and Tom had spent the past two days in this very room, not allowed to leave for fear of getting in the way of the mediwitches and wizards. They took their meals here, slept here, and tried not to go insane from boredom and worry. Mary was in and out, but spent most of her time with Tavish. The fact that they STILL didn't know if Tavish was really going to be okay preyed most heavily on both boys' minds.

He simply HAD to be all right. No other alternative could even be considered.

To get his mind off that train of thought, Rubeus picked up a chess figure and started rolling it between his large fingers. The pawn squeaked indignantly at the treatment. "What do yeh suppose they're sayin' back at Hogwarts? Did Professor Dumbledore make an announcement, or are they jus' wondering where we are?"

"I'm sure he said... something. Possibly just 'It's a family matter,' so that we could decide how much to tell them when we get back.... Then again, probably he did say what's the matter. He'd almost certainly have told the teachers, I think."

"I guess so..." Rubeus found himself staring at the door some more.

Tom tried not to do the same, but between Rubeus and the _wondering_, the door seemed to have a truly remarkable sort of eye-magnetism. 

It was something of a shock to both of them when it actually opened.

"Mum!" Tom said quickly, jumping to his feet and knocking the chessboard over. He waved his wand hurriedly to put the pieces back where they belonged. "Did something...?"

He couldn't bear to finish the sentence.

She smiled at him; he could see tears in her eyes, but what she _said_ was, "The danger's past."

Tom closed his eyes and fell bonelessly back into his seat. Rubeus's eyes widened and he asked, "Does that mean we can see him now?"

"Most likely yes -- though they'll have to look you over first." Her voice was gaining energy; instead of weeping with relief it now sounded as if she might want to laugh. "He's not awake yet -- there's a sleeping spell that hasn't yet worn off and he does need the rest, so I'm not certain when he will be -- but he _will_ make it, and it's safe for you to go in."

Rubeus shouted for joy and picked Mary up in an enthusiastic hug, then ran out the door after the mediwitch. Tom stayed where he was for a moment, a hand in front of his eyes. After a moment he looked up at his mother and asked quietly, "They're _sure_?"

She held out both her hands to him. "They're sure." 

He didn't take them yet. "What if they're wrong? What if it comes back and they're not ready for it this time?"

"This isn't a recurring illness; they can tell when it's on its way out of the body for good."

Tom swallowed further protests, though they stuck in his throat and threatened to choke him. 

"All right..." He stood up slowly. "We should go find Rubeus before he scares all the nurses."

"Yes, let's." She caught up his hands for a moment, then wrapped him in her arms before they went on. "Don't go on worrying," she whispered. "I wouldn't have spoken if it _weren't_ certain."

He hugged her back once, fiercely, his arms shaking slightly. "I'm not worried. Really. I just...I was worried about Rubeus. Come on, we should find him." 

Tom pulled away from his mother and left the room, pacing down the hallway to just outside Tavish's room, where Rubeus was chattering with the mediwitch who was running a slightly glowing wand over him. 

"All righ' there, Tom?"

"Of course. Everything's going to be now, right?" The mediwitch finished with Rubeus and move to Tom as he added, "What about you?"

Rubeus had never been the type to hide his emotions. On the one hand, that meant every spilled out no matter what. But on the other hand, he got everything out and _dealt_ with more quickly than Tom, who was still quivering with barely-suppressed anxiety. "Like yeh said, ev'rything's all right now. Madame Velos said Dad's sleepin' real peaceful now."

"Good. That's good." But Tom would feel better if they said Tavish were _awake_ and lucid.  
Mary came around the corner and went to join her sons, putting her arm through Rubeus's as the mediwitch continued checking over Tom. Contrary to Tom's earlier assertion, his face was still carefully blank, which his mother knew from long experience meant he was still anxious. 

"That's you then, dear," Madame Velos finally announced, giving Tom a pat on the shoulder. "You can all go in now."

They trooped in, Rubeus carefully ducking the doorframe. Tavish lay very still in bed, but he was breathing easily and looked quite comfortable. Mary went to touch her fingertips to his forehead and then his lips; Rubeus hurled himself to his knees beside the bed and hugged his father extremely gingerly. Tom contented himself with taking up a limp hand and tried not to shake too much when it fell closed over his.

"We've been right here the whole time, Dad, me an' Tom," Rubeus was assuring his father. Tom wasn't quite sure how he was able to _talk_ around the immense grin wrapping around his face. 

"Well, not _here_, I mean, because they wouldn' let us in, but just in th' other room an' we were worried about you an'--well, we're glad yeh're better. Really glad."

Tavish drew in a long breath that might have been a sigh, or at least a response, if it hadn't been so exactly like every other breath he took... but then the next one hitched just slightly as if Tavish had thought of saying something and then given up on it. 

Rubeus hugged him again. "An' we'll _stay_ right here until you're all better."

"Rubeus," Mary said gently, "he's out of the woods now. It's just going to be a matter of recovering his strength, and that will likely be a slow process. You two need to get back to your classes."

"But Aunt Mary --!"

"You've already missed enough to keep you busy for quite a while. Tavish wouldn't want either of you falling behind in your studies. I've already owled your House Heads; they'll be expecting you back tomorrow."

Rubeus looked as if he wanted to protest, met Mary's green eyes for a long moment with his mouth half-open, then gusted out a heavy sigh. "...Yes, Aunt Mary."

Her expression gentled. "It won't be so bad, Rubeus. Truly. I'm sure you'll be glad to see your friends again. And you know your father and I will write to you. And Tom will be there."

"I know." He looked down at his father again. "I just don' like to leave him."  
Mary put one hand on Rubeus's shoulder and the other on Tavish's. "I'll be here with him. I promise to take good care of him."

Rubeus smiled a little again. "I know yeh will."

"Mum's good at looking after people," Tom said softly, looking down at Tavish rather than at his brother. After a moment he swallowed and looked back up at Rubeus, forcing a big smile. 

"Besides, the Gryffindor/Slytherin match is in just a few days. You don't want to miss _that_, do you?"

Rubeus snorted. "More like yeh want time to practice, right?" He looked back down at his father, then blinked at Mary. "Yeh two were plannin' to come, before, weren't yeh...."

She smiled ruefully. "I'd be surprised if we make it now, I'm afraid -- though I wouldn't put it past Tavish to try." Her mouth twitched. "So if he writes you after a week or so saying I drugged his tea, you'll know why...."

*****

The room wasn't completely dark and silent like Tom had thought it would be. It was a perfectly reasonable thought -- a room in the middle of the night _should_ be dark and silent, right? But this wasn't an ordinary bedroom. It was a hospital room, tucked away on the second floor of St.Mungo's, and apparently they were _never_ quiet. There was a sliver of light from the hallway shining under the door even after Tom quietly closed it, illuminating the single bed and chair inside. He could still hear sounds coming from other parts of the hospital -- mediwizards and witches talking and casting spells, people running down the hall, even a singing telegram being delivered in the next room.

In some ways, that was comforting. But Tom had crept in here, all alone and in the middle of the night, precisely because he didn't _want_ any of that around. He'd left his mother and Rubeus sleeping quietly down the hall in the room they'd occupied since Tavish had been rushed here over a week ago. Tom had spent most of the day trying to smile and hug and reassure everyone that yes, everything was fine now. The mediwizards had cleared Tavish, after all, saying such a complete recovery from Firian Fire Fever was remarkable, even miraculous. Things were well enough that the boys were being sent back to Hogwarts and even Mary was going to go back home (at nights, at least) while Tavish kept recovering. 

But...Tom still needed to just..._sit_ here and watch as Tavish's chest rose and fell quietly, reassuring himself that everything WAS fine. Tavish was recovering. Everything would be _fine_...

He still couldn't shake the feeling that there was some awful mistake, a miscount or a new strain of the virus or _something_, that as soon as he and Rubeus were back at school an owl would be set winging off after them bearing the worst of news.....

Tom was very glad that there were no known Seers in his family. 

Except some Muggles were thought to have a touch of what they called the Sight, at least, and -- no, no, no, he wasn't even considering that. He just... hadn't quite managed to let go of the tension of the past days. Either that, or he had let go and the shock of trying to relax had been too much. It was...absurd, really. _He_ wasn't the one who'd been ill, and Tavish looked tired but completely relaxed. Then again, it was probably hard to worry very much while asleep, at least when the potions for stemming delirious hallucinations were still in one's system. 

There wasn't anything to worry about.

Tom _knew_ that. The rest was just... just on account of having become used to being afraid.

He knew.

And as he sat there, watching Tavish breathe easily and occasionally move a little in his sleep, Tom finally forgot to keep reminding himself Tavish was going to be okay and came to believe it. The tightness in his chest eased, letting his own breathing come as easily as his stepfather's, and some of the huge knot of tension coiled in his shoulders began to relax. This was foolish. Why had he even come? His mother and Rubeus hadn't had to; they'd believed the mediwizards like intelligent people.

But he HAD come, and somehow he'd HAD to. Tom acknowledged that even as he acknowledged it was stupid. With one last deep sigh, Tom stood up. He didn't know how long he'd been here, but he should probably get _some_ sleep before going back to Hogwarts. He'd have a lot of schoolwork to catch up on.

He paused for a moment at the door, then went back to the bedside and clasped Tavish's hand even while telling himself he was being foolish. It was warm and strong and alive, even in sleep.

Then it moved, and Tom barely managed to keep from shouting.

Tavish's eyes opened slowly a second after he grasped the hand in his. He swallowed once and blinked, then said, "Tom."

"Uncle Tavish." Tom couldn't keep the sheer relief out of his voice as his knees practically buckled. Hearing other people say everything was fine was all well and good, but that was nothing compared to seeing it for himself. He managed to control himself long enough for a shaky smile. "You're looking well."

Tavish smiled slightly. "Havin' made my own share of hospital visits, I'll take it that's a relative term." He squeezed Tom's hand lightly and one eyelid dropped in a wink. "I am feelin' a lot better. And it's good to see yeh, boy."

"I didn't mean to wake you up," Tom apologized instantly, even as his other hand came up to wrap around Tavish's as well. "I just...wanted to...make sure you didn't need anything before we left in the morning."

"Wouldn' that be a mite difficult ter find out without wakin' me?" The smile grew a little as Tom blushed, but it was a gentle one. "There, now. I mean it, I'm glad yeh came in, though I suspect you're supposed ter be asleep."

"I--I just..." Tom blushed even harder as he tried to come up with a way to explain himself. "I wasn't tired," he said lamely.

"Yeh look it." Tavish's hand tugged at his until Tom got the message and leaned down for a hug. 

"It's just been a hard few days," he whispered, hugging tightly. He added quickly, "For Mum and Rubeus. They've been worried. I've been trying..." Tom blinked rapidly. "They're okay. I took care of them."

"I'm sure yeh did." For a man who'd spent more than a week fevered and bedridden, Tavish gave a very firm hug. Rubeus hadn't inherited _all_ his strength from his giantess mother. "Been able ter count on yeh for that since yeh were what, three?"

Tom stood up and perched on the edge of the bed, keeping his hand wrapped tightly around Tavish's. "I was three," he confirmed with a weak smile. "And you were...the strangest man I'd ever met. But you were nice to Mum, so I figured you couldn't be too bad."

Tavish chuckled softly. "Well, Mary's too nice a lady not ter be nice back, isn' she? Can' help but be glad she did decide to visit -- even if she had no business flyin' at the time."

Tom stared at Tavish for a long moment, then suddenly leaned back down and wrapped his arms around his stepfather's chest. "I've never been more glad of anything in my life," he said fervently, though the words were a bit muddled by his speaking into Tavish's shirt.

Tavish put one arm around Tom and reached with the other for his wand -- left as standard procedure on a small table by the bed, though he probably wasn't really expected to be using it -- and Summoned one of the extra blankets folded at the foot of the bed to wrap around the boy who only then realized he was trembling slightly. "Couldn' possibly have turned out better," Tavish said softly.

Tom clenched his arms even tighter, until they shook with the effort, trying to fight back the moisture welling up in his eyes. He couldn't cry, not now, but...he never had to worry about being strong in front of Tavish, because Tavish could take care of it for the both of them. "You scared us," he whispered harshly around the lump in his throat. "We were so worried..."

"I'll try not ter do it again," Tavish replied quietly. He shifted a little to take some of his weight off the thin wrists locked together behind his back and moved a hand soothingly across Tom's shoulders. "Mary saved my life, I think, callin' in help when she did."

"Y-you can't die." Tom's voice was shaky but adamant. His eyes burned, the lump in his throat nearly choking him. "P-please, you can't die. I can't look after them on my own..."

"Tom.... Look, now. I'll try not to, of course." Tavish grasped one of Tom's shoulders firmly, still holding him close with the other arm. "But if I did --" Tom lurched slightly; Tavish overrode the incipient protest gently. "No, listen, _if_ I did, yeh'd all make it through all right. Life does go on, and yeh'd look after each other. Believe me, though, I've got no such plans -- I'd have ter leave yeh, and I don' want to do that."

"We _wouldn't_ get through it, because we need YOU." Tom gripped even harder, as if he would be able to prevent Tavish's death simply by holding on tightly enough. "I was trying to take care of Mum and Rubeus while you were sick, but I couldn't _do_ it right! We need _you_."

"An' I'm not goin' anywhere," Tavish said firmly. "Not if I can help it, that's certain." He reached up and ruffled Tom's hair. "I'm sure yeh did just fine. You're a good son and a good brother. But yeh don' have ter do everythin' on your own, yeh know that, right?"

"Not as long as you're here," Tom mumbled into Tavish's shirt. His tears finally spilled over, burning his eyes. "You're the only dad I've ever known. The only one I ever needed. But I need you!"

"I'm not goin' _anywhere_," Tavish repeated quietly while Tom struggled to keep a sob silent. "I love you."

"I l-love you too," Tom gasped out. "That's why I don't want to lose you."

"I know. I'll do my best, son, yeh know that. I'm sorry about scarin' yeh all."

Tom sat back up and wiped his eyes. "I'm sorry; you're supposed to be resting, not listening to me cry."

"Tom, don' apologize," Tavish admonished him gently. "There's no harm done and sometimes everybody needs a good cry."

One corner of Tom's mouth hitched up. Tavish had been saying that for as long as he could remember. While he usually chose to emulate his mother's more...restrained style, Tavish had never let him be too serious for long. He leaned down again and gave Tavish a fierce hug. 

"I'll try to remember. Thank you."

"Thank yeh for comin' in ter see me." Tavish returned the hug, then reached up to smudge away a tear-streak as Tom pulled back. "Yeh better get some sleep, though. If it's safe for yeh ter be in here, they'll be sendin' yeh off again soon."

"We're leaving in the morning," Tom admitted reluctantly. "I'd rather stay with you..."

"But yeh need to be gettin' back to Hogwarts. Probably missed enough school as it is." Tavish squeezed Tom's arm lightly. "If yeh want ter stay here tonight instead of tryin' to slip back out again now, I think we can make room." And there were already an inordinate number of blankets.

Tom shrugged. "I'm always ahead anyway...but I'm sure Rubeus has all sorts of things he's supposed to be feeding. We'll be going back to a bunch of one-handed second years if he passed it off to any of his friends." He grinned a little, then asked almost shyly, "You wouldn't mind? I just...want to be sure you're all right. But I don't want to be any trouble."

"Yeh won' be." Expanding the narrow bed into two to fit an extra person wasn't too difficult, not when the second person was a slender teenager. The sheets didn't want to cooperate, but again, there were plenty of blankets.

Tom curled up next to his stepfather, firmly squelched the voice that said he was too old for this, and laid his head on Tavish's shoulder. Everything _was_ going to be all right. Tom smiled into the not-quite-dark and let himself be lulled to sleep by Tavish's quiet breathing.

*****


End file.
